Watching Anna fade like morning mist before his eyes, Eli felt a prickle of sentiment, a soft ripple on a still pond.

The future—no doubt—it called like a sunlit horizon.

And this one was bright, warm, almost blinding with promise.

It made yearning bloom in his chest like spring after a long frost.

At the thought, the corner of his mouth lifted, a small crescent moon.

Eli stepped out of his daydream, but the echo hadn’t even cleared when a scream, loud as labor, rattled the branches around him.

“Hey, you stinking Hero! If you don’t get over here, I’m about to turn into fertilizer! Help!”

Edlyn was mummified in vines, only her eyes and mouth free, her shout the last flare of a torch in the wind.

The Demonic Lord bellowed in helpless fury.

She’d already been in bad shape; now she forced the numbing toxin down to her neck like holding a flood behind a flimsy dam.

The vines kept cinching, snakes tightening with every breath.

Terror flashed cold between her and Yiyi as their eyes met; death pressed down like a storm sky.

Edlyn writhed, and the more she fought, the tighter it bit; it felt like the noose would finish its cruel knot.

She had no other way, so she yelled for a certain someone.

That someone had slipped into a reverie and let his sword aura gutter out like a candle in a draft.

When the power from the first setup drained to nothing, the vines took them again and hoisted them back up like trophies.

Eli snapped back, slapped his cheeks, and strode out from behind the trunk, his expression a sheet of charcoal when he saw the state of the two.

Under their mournfully resentful stares, he stepped up and patted the Tree of Life’s exposed root like soothing a sulking beast.

He smiled. “Alright, quit it. The elves will wake in a bit. Let them down.”

With no wind at all, the Tree of Life gave a gentle sway, a lake rippling under a clear sky.

Then, to their round-eyed shock, it released the three bound figures.

Raphael had been flooded with paralysis toxin; even an Elf Race body, tough against plant poisons, couldn’t shrug off harm from the origin tree.

He’d fainted before Anna vanished, a candle snuffed by its own wax.

Now he lay limp on the ground, still adrift.

The Tree of Life shed its toxic, thorned vines like a snake sloughing skin.

It stood straight again, a heaven-piercing trunk with no serpents clinging to it.

Edlyn watched, startled, a pinch of jealousy stinging like nettles—another strange trick for the Hero’s pocket.

But excitement sparked too, with a small ember of pride warming beneath it.

She scritched her head, at a loss, then noticed Eli lowering his gaze, then looking at her; she froze like a deer in moonlight.

Edlyn blinked and followed his eyes downward.

She’d fallen in a squat with knees splayed, and her clothes were little more than wind-torn rags.

Strips hung off her like wilted leaves; what should be covered wasn’t, what could be bare was far too bare.

She glanced at Yiyi on instinct, and found her also staring blankly at Eli, eyes like stunned birds.

Since when could the main body make the World Tree behave?

She didn’t even realize her own outfit matched her in ruin, a pair of storms in the same sky.

Edlyn turned back, face blank, and met Eli’s gaze.

Three heartbeats stretched like drawn bowstrings.

Eli coughed lightly, walked over, and draped his mage robe over Edlyn, cocooning her in midnight cloth.

He gathered her into his arms. “Ahem, so, um, you seem to have… filled out a bit.”

“Huh?” Edlyn’s voice was flat water, no ripples.

Eli looked down at her. “Uh… well…”

“Mm? What are you trying to say?” Her face stayed cool, but her pupils kindled with some nameless current.

“Uh—heh.” Eli glanced aside and saw Yiyi, nearly bare, sitting dazed.

He scrambled over, dressed her in a hurry, scooped her up, and tucked her into his avatar space like a swallow into its eave.

Edlyn sat watching, eyes like quiet wells.

Eli hurried back and pulled her into his arms. “Ahem. Baby. Be good. Don’t be mad.”

..............................................................

“The Elf Race, huh. I recall… something very, very unpleasant there.” Janus looked at Zero, mouth quirking like a knife smile.

Zero scratched the back of his head, sheepish as a boy caught stealing peaches.

“Ahem, yeah, let’s not bring up the past. Not bring it up.”

“Oh? You mean to forget?” Janus’s eyes sharpened like a blade unsheathed, then, as Zero flinched, she slid to his arm and clung with water-soft grace. “My lord Husband~ you’d better think it through~”

“I—I, uh—Ahem. Wife~”

“Aha.”

“You’re suddenly so quick on the pickup that I’m a bit thrown,” Zero said, face stiff as carved wood.

“Oh, my lord Husband. Forget all that messy business. Please confirm what you just said~ Our future happiness hangs on it~” Janus smiled sweetly, sugar over steel.

“I… I was wrong,” Zero howled, like wind through bare branches.

“Oh~ Husband, where were you wrong~?”

“I was wrong, I really was wrong,” he sniffled, rain threatening his sky.

“Oh~” Janus tipped his chin up with a teasing finger. “Come, Husband. Tell me. Where were you wrong~?”

“I won’t do it again, never again,” he groaned, a man under a thundercloud.

At the door, Era blinked, mouth twitching. “So this is… a special married-couple kink?”

Zero spotted her and stood, hauling Janus into his arms and pinning her head against his chest like holding a runaway cat.

“What do you need from me?” he said mildly.

Janus struggled, then, out of tricks, tilted her head and bit down on a certain small bump on his chest.

“Hiss—” Zero’s eyes widened; he drew a sharp breath like stepping into ice water.

“You—what happened?” Era blurted.

“I, I… I’m…” Zero looked ready to cry and laugh all at once, a man on a swaying bridge.

“I’m experiencing what it feels like for a girl to nurture the next generation.”

“Right… I came to ask what we do next.”

Zero rubbed Janus’s head hard, then said, “For now, you just keep the altar stable. The Abyss could return at any time.”

“The Elf Race and the Beastkin seem to be moving in some special way. Shouldn’t we get involved?” Era asked, brow knotted like woven reeds.

“Era, I know you want to release your kin, but it’s not time. We’re about to drop into a deep meditation, and that pull’s getting stronger.”

“We don’t even know when we’ll fall asleep,” he said after a pause, tone steady as a bell.

“What?” she breathed.

“When that happens, we won’t be able to watch over the Demon Race or anyone else. Not until a certain trigger appears,” Zero said, earnest as bedrock.

“So, to be safe, the two of us won’t leave this place anymore,” he added.

“Understood,” Era said, biting down, then sighing out like a long tide.

Seeing the reluctance still in her eyes, Zero smiled. “You can dispatch a special unit to slip into their war. But remember, do not expose yourselves. Do you understand?” He lifted his gaze to the sky.

Reni dropped from above and moved to Era’s side, kneeling on one knee like a hawk folding its wings. “Yes, Acting Lord!”

“Got it!” Era said, excitement sparking like flint.

“Good, good.” Zero smiled again.

Then another stab of pain lit his chest, a star gone supernova under skin.

He gave a wry smile. “Alright, you two head out. What comes next is family business.”

“...Okay.” The two women traded a look, laughter hiding at the corners of their eyes, and slipped from the room.

“Ahem… I… I really was wrong.”

..............................................................

“You’re serious?” Aivis asked, surprise cutting across his face like a shadow.

“When have I ever lied to you, dear Aivis?” Kate said, swallowing the pain in his foot and shrugging like a man under rain.

“I see. I’ll make good use of this chance then, Mr. Kate,” Aivis murmured, then stalled mid-thought.

Kate narrowed his eyes, watching Aivis pause like a hunter scenting blood.

Aivis rubbed his chin, thoughts turning like cogs.

He couldn’t get a firm leash on this man; if he killed him now… maybe the rumor of colluding with the Beastkin would die here.

Kate was hurt, his leg dragging; he couldn’t vanish like that bandit from the other day, not this time.

Time dripped past like cold oil.

Kate pinched a coil of ink-green energy between his fingers, a silent threat like a knife half-drawn.

Aivis smiled at him. “Mr. Kate, you should go get treated. Leave everything to me for now. Rest easy.”

“...” Kate stayed silent, eyes deep as a well.

Aivis frowned. “Mr. Kate?”

When he felt Aivis’s killing intent fold away like a sheathed blade, Kate bared his teeth in a smile. “Alright. Thanks for the concern.”

“That’s better.”

Face dark as a storm edge, Kate let two maids support him and walked out of Aivis’s room, footsteps tapping like rain on stone.